


Coming Home

by hey_you_with_the_face, pherryt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BMol - Freeform, Canon Divergent, Emotional Sam, F/M, Feels, Fix It Fic, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Angst, SEASON 12 FINALE SPOILERS, Saileen Big Bang, Smut, bad ass eileen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-14 17:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13594815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/pseuds/hey_you_with_the_face, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Eileen's been on the run from the British Men of Letters for weeks. She hasn’t stopped to breathe in at least one, with only one thing on her mind - get to the bunker and find safety.And make sure Sam and Dean Winchester know they’re in danger too.That they all are.She finally gets there only to find the bunker a mess and the possibility that she was too late is too strong to ignore.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Saileen Big Bang - I went for the mini. 
> 
> Big thanks to [TreeFrogie84](http://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84) who beta'd for me. I think i accepted just about all of her suggestions except for 2 (She thought present tense would work better but i can never wrap my head around it)
> 
> And [ Hey_you_with_the_face](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face) / [blue-reveries](https://blue-reveries.tumblr.com/) went above and beyond with the art! very very awesome! (and more than i expected!) and one of the pieces she drew was one i was thinking would make a good one (But i knew it would be tough and she totally pulled it off!)
> 
> Go make sure to leave some love and reblog her [ Art Masterpost on tumblr!](https://blue-reveries.tumblr.com/post/170673317940/art-post-for-pherryts-saileen-big-bang-story)
> 
> thanks everyone! And i hope you enjoy it!

 

Sam was in shock.

Living a Hunter's life, he was no stranger to loss. Yet loss seemed to follow the two of them around like day followed night. He’d talked to other Hunters in the community, the few times he’d met up with hunters outside their circle: no one else experienced this sort of death toll.

Maybe because they dealt with higher risk things then most of the other hunters. Not that the Winchesters were the only ones who _did_ , but…it was the only thing Sam could think of. It was when other Hunters helped the Winchesters that the death tolls climbed.

Even knowing their statistics didn’t prepare him for the bloodbath that Jack's very existence caused.

Even Eileen’s death could be blamed on that because if she had never helped them with Kelly, she would never have been in a position to accidentally kill that British Men of Letters douche. But she was, and did, and the British Men of Letters with their vendetta had come calling.

It still hurt that she had come to them, _him_ , for help and he’d been too late. He still couldn’t believe she was dead.

Everyone that ever helped them, it seemed, was dead now. Rowena, just as she’d started growing on him, an understanding between her and the Winchesters having been reached. Crowley, the demon they loved to hate, who’d helped them so often, even when it hurt him to do so. Kelly, who _chose_ this. Who’d chosen to have faith in her unborn child, despite his parentage.

Mom was gone – Lucifer pulling her in after him. There was no way she’d survived that. And in a pain that echoed Eileen’s, Cas was gone too.  Sam's seen Dean react to loss before, but never like this. Anger, harsh words, denial - those things Sam was used to. Pushing it all away to get the job done and breaking down later, Sam understood. And maybe that was all still to come, Dean tended to repress his feelings but this...

Instead of moving now and dealing later, instead of choking everything back and having Sam’s back, Dean had fallen to his knees beside Cas, silent. Sam hesitated - there was a Nephilim to deal with after all - but Dean wasn't moving.

And that wasn't like his brother. Or it was, but...Sam shook his head. They didn’t have time for this.

So many had been lost, in such a quick span of time, that Sam couldn’t blame Dean for shutting down for just a few seconds - he hoped to God it wouldn’t be more, he needed Dean with him. They would all hurt after this, Sam was sure, but Eileen and Castiel would be felt more deeply, more intrinsically, than any other death could.

So Sam left Dean beside Cas’s body, giving him privacy, giving him time, and hoped Dean would come back to himself fast.

There had been time for Sam to process Eileen’s death in a much calmer, less violent manner. There had been nothing pressing at the time, either, which had helped. It still hurt, immensely, but he’d had the opportunity to process it, lock it up, and tamp it down so he could keep going.

He wasn’t sure Dean would have that time.

Sam turned away from his brother’s grief.

What about Jack? Had it all been for nothing? Was Kelly’s faith in her son misplaced?

Would any of this be salvageable?

* * *

 

Eileen let herself into the bunker, scratched and bloodied, covered in dirt and bruises, but _very much_ alive. If anywhere was safe anymore, she figured it’d be with the Winchesters than by herself. It wasn’t a philosophy she normally ascribed to, but Sam was a hunter she trusted and she was _so damn tired._

She froze. Something wasn’t right: there was blood on the floor, broken furniture everywhere and even the smell was off. Calling out for Sam and Dean, she pulled out her knife and carefully checked each room, one by one.

The bunker was empty, though there were signs of struggle in several of the rooms, more broken furniture and blood. She blinked when she saw the concrete wall turned to rubble. Something bad had happened, and she had to hold in a sob. What if her warning had come too late? Had the British Men of Letters come here?

Were Sam and Dean dead?

Biting her lip, uncertain of what to do, she decided to stay. If Sam and Dean were dead, the British MOL were most likely done with the bunker. If they were going to take up residence, they would have left a man behind. Since they believed her dead, then this would be the last place anyone would look for her.

Besides, she was exhausted and filthy. Even if she didn’t stay, she could take the time to get cleaned up. She returned to the bathroom and set the water going, then looked for Sam’s room. She had no spare clothes or any other supplies. She’d just borrow something of his for now and look for a sewing kit to hem things until she could make a supply run.

She paused in the entry of his room. It was a mess, but she smiled sadly, knowing that it was a Sam mess, and not from a struggle. With a sigh, she strode in and opened the dresser drawer, pulling out one of his large t-shirts and a pair of boxers. She would swim in them, but the Bunker was warm enough she could use safety pins to keep the boxers up until she could modify a set of clothes and get her own into the washer.

Within moments, Eileen was standing under the hot spray, her eyes closed, not even scrubbing yet, just letting the hot water wash over her, hitting her tense muscles. It’d been over a week since she’d felt safe enough to indulge in the simple luxury of a shower.

Eventually, she forced her tired muscles to move and scrubbed herself down.

Turning off the water, she dried off, and examined the cuts and bruises on her skin. None of them looked like they needed much attention. She’d been lucky. The gash on her arm was the biggest concern, but it didn’t show any sign of infection. She couldn’t do anything about her bruised ribs, but the first aid kit yielded a big enough bandage to take care of her arm.

Once dressed, she scrounged some leftovers out of the fridge. Her stomach was rumbling enough that she was tempted to eat them cold, but she warmed them anyway -- there was no telling how old they were --  before bringing them back to Sam’s room, along with a glass of water. She finished off the food, which hit the spot, and crawled under Sam’s covers, smelling so completely of Sam that tears filled her eyes.

It was possible Sam wasn’t dead, even though it didn’t look good. She’d figure out how to contact him or Dean tomorrow, after she’d slept.

Feeling safer than she had in days, Eileen still slipped her knife under the pillow before settling down. Her eyelids heavy, she fell asleep quickly.

***

The bed shifted and Eileen snapped awake. Grabbing her knife, she rolled off the bed and landed in a crouch, eyes darting around to see what had woken her.

 

She froze, blinking at the sudden light from the bedside lamp, her mouth dropping open as she took in a half naked Sam who was staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, just as frozen, his hand still on the switch.

“Sam? You’re alive?” she asked, easing her grip on the knife and standing. Sam’s eyes followed her, his mouth worked but she couldn’t tell if he was saying anything. If he was, it wasn’t making sense. “What?”

Finally, he shook his head and stood up from the bed. “Eileen? I thought you were dead!” Sam was so surprised that he had forgotten to sign along with his words, something he’d taken to doing nearly the instant they’d met. Good thing she could read lips, Eileen thought.  “Oh my god…I can’t believe…I had hoped…you’re alive!”

He stepped around the bed and grabbed her into a tight hug, his hands clutching at the fabric of her t-shirt. He was shaking as he leaned down to envelope her in his arms, burying his face in her hair. Eileen felt his mouth move, but whatever he said was lost. She thought she had the gist of it though when she felt the wetness fall on her cheek, on her neck.

Sam was crying. She returned the hug, running her hands soothingly along his warm, shirtless back, humming something – the vibrations had always been somewhat soothing to her and she hoped it would to him as well – and just waited.

He pulled away finally, his eyes still shining wetly, and he moved his shaking hands to cup her face wonderingly. Happiness and confusion mixed in. “I’m so happy to see you alive--” the words were hard to pick out “but _how?”_

“It’s a long story, Sam,” she said, signing as she spoke to be certain she was understood. She didn’t know how well she did or didn’t speak. She couldn’t hear herself, but she’d had a few ‘well meaning’ folks tell her she had an odd way of doing so.

The movement of her hands caught his eyes and he watched her hands moving before he looked back at her. He dropped his and shakily tried to sign as he spoke. It wasn’t second nature to him yet, and it was obvious he was struggling. “I’m sorry – I was rude. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Sam. I understand. You look exhausted,” Eileen noted.

Sam let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair with a nod. “Yeah, you could say that again. It’s been…a rough couple of days.”

“From the looks of this place, you’ve got quite a story to tell me,” she smiled, trying to get him to answer in kind.

His smile was weak but he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll say we do. I’d say we both do.”

“I’d be happy to tell you anything you want to know,” she said. “Do you want to get your brother before I start?”

“You know what? I’m…I’m fucking exhausted. I don’t think I’ve slept in three days. Could we just…put it all off for now?” his eyes pleaded with her and she nodded. Eileen turned to step away, to leave Sam’s room when his hand on her arm gently turned her around. “Where are you going?”

“This is your room, Sam. I intruded. I’ll let you go to sleep,” she said.

“No,” he shook his head. “You were already comfortable and I disturbed you. You can stay here and I’ll…go use one of the other rooms.” Eileen saw him hesitate.

“Sam,” she looked up at him. “I know you’re trying to be considerate, and I appreciate that, but I don’t want to be alone right now. And I don’t think you do either. If you don’t mind sharing a bed…I think there’s enough room.”

He nodded, lips pressed tightly together. She pulled him toward his bed and lay down, urging him to do the same. He was awkward at first and, as big as he was, there really was no sharing the bed without practically laying on top of him. But she treated it like it was nothing, like it was normal, and eventually he relaxed against her, one of his arms even wrapping around her waist. She smiled as she tucked herself more comfortably against his broad chest and together, they fell asleep, the soft light on the bedside table still on.

The next morning Eileen shuffled into the kitchen with a yawn, Sam behind her. The bunkers kitchen was _not_ unoccupied when they stepped through the doorway, two men sitting side by side at the table. Dean she recognized, the other not so much but...wait, she was certain she’d heard Sam and Dean talk about their friend Cas. He was without his trenchcoat, but the man beside Dean fit the description.

Dean looked up at that moment and choked when he saw her standing there. Cas reached out and started thumping his back. Dean spit something out of his mouth and Sam grimaced at that.

“Eileen? Fuck, you’re alive!” Dean stood, a grin on his face before he paused and his eyes narrowed. “Wait, is this a trick?”

“No trick, Dean. I’ll be happy to explain everything, as soon as I have some coffee,” Eileen said sluggishly, even the movements of her fingers were slow, harder for Sam to understand than usual.

Cas stood up and announced proudly that he had made the coffee this morning and would gladly get her a cup as Sam guided her to the table. Dean slowly sat down, still staring at Eileen. Then he suddenly blinked. “Wait, is that one of Sam’s shirts?”

Eileen slumped in a seat and simply nodded.

“So, what, are you and my brother…?” Dean asked, then cut himself off with a sharp shake of his head. “Hey, bitch, why didn’t you _tell_ me? Congratulations!” he turned back to Eileen. “You ever need me to kick his ass, just give the word. I mean, I know you can do it yourself, but, big brother prerogative. Plus, I know all his weak spots.” Dean grinned.

Eileen started to laugh, a smile blooming on her face. These last however many hours – honestly, she wasn’t sure anymore. She’d lost track when she was sleeping – had been uplifting. Finding a sanctuary, finding out Sam was alive…it had done wonders for her mood. And now this. Sam’s face was turning red and she decided to take pity on him and explain the truth to Dean.

“I needed something to wear. Everything of mine is filthy or rags. I figured, if either of you were still alive, Sam was less likely to get pissy if I borrowed his clothes,” Eileen noted before dropping her hands to pick up the mug Cas had brought her. She hadn’t officially met the angel yet, but she was convinced now that this was him. “Thank you, Castiel.”

He beamed at her. “You’re welcome, Eileen. And it is a pleasure to meet you, finally. Sam speaks often of you.”

She eyed Sam over the coffee. If anything, he was blushing even harder now. She smiled, her eyes crinkling before glancing back at Castiel. “Does he now?”

A vibration from the table rolled up her arm and she turned to find Sam had face planted on the table, his hair hiding his face from view. Another series of vibrations had her turning to face Dean. He’d thrown his head back and was laughing – she wondered what that sounded like. Would she find it annoying? – and he pounded the table with this fist. The Angel stared at him with a small smile quirking at his own lips.

Now that she saw them both in the same place, at the same time, as Dean got up and made breakfast for the four of them and Castiel got up to help, she could see what Sam had been talking about.

The two of them gravitated towards each other, the feelings they held all too obvious in the way they stood, how close they stood. The touches and almost touches, the looks, the licked lips. She looked at Sam and met his eyes, raising an eyebrow in question and he shrugged. “Later,” he said. Or maybe, considering Dean and Cas were right there, he’d given it no volume. Either way, it was all the same to her.

When breakfast was over, they migrated to the library and story time began.

“So I don’t get it, what happened? We got your letter, _after_ we were called to the morgue. Even dead, you helped us,” Sam shook his head in wonder but continued. “God, I’ve been kicking myself ever since, just thinking that if maybe we’d checked our mail sooner…Eileen, I - I don’t understand… _we saw your body!”_

“You were meant to see a body. Well, not you. I _am_ sorry about that, but I needed the Brits to believe I was dead, needed to get them off my back. Nowhere was safe. I hadn’t slept in…I’m not sure how long,” Eileen sighed.

“How’d you do it?” Dean asked.

“Skinwalker,” Eileen said with a grin.

“A skinwalker? But how?” Sam leaned forward, eyes riveted on Eileen.

“I was on the run for days, on my way here, when we crossed paths. It tried to eat me, so I trapped it,” Eileen spoke matter of factly, and Dean’s jaw dropped. She grinned at his reaction and continued. “I played the dumb hunter till it tried to taunt me by taking on my face and then I bound it to that form with a spell. I let it go and went in the opposite direction. I didn’t know if the Men of Letters followed me or the skinwalker or even if the skinwalker had been able to shuck off the spell before they caught up. I just kept running. I haven’t seen anyone suspicious for the last two days so I was beginning to hope it worked, but I didn’t dare stop until I knew I was safe.”

“So you came here,” Sam breathed.

Dean’s mouth was still gaping open before he finally got it moving again. “Holy fuck! Eileen, you are _badass_! I always knew I liked you.” He grinned and turned to Sam. “Sammy, you need to marry this chick.”

Eileen laughed as Sam turned red again. When the laughter died down and Dean had settled once more, Eileen finally asked what _she_ wanted to ask. “So what happened here? I was afraid something had happened to you both.”

The faces on all three men sobered and she instantly felt on edge. She reminded herself that they were there, they were alive, however dire things were, there was at least that.

“Well, it’s only been a week but you missed a lot,” Sam said.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. The British douchebags declared war on American hunters. Mom found out and tried to warn us but it was too late. She was brainwashed. Then they came to take us down right here in the bunker. We were winning until that ass, Ketch, pulled out his secret weapon – Mom. They locked us in here and rigged this place so we’d suffocate. We got out, Sam stormed their base and took them out and I found a way to fix Mom.”

“I was with Kelly, trying to keep her safe and hidden from everyone. She was determined to let her child be born and… I was convinced as well, that that was the way it should be,” Castiel explained. “Then Dean, Sam and Mary arrived, Lucifer right behind them. Things were…a little confusing after that. Kelly died and Jack was born.  Crowley sacrificed himself for us, Lucifer and Mary were trapped in an alternate reality and…”

“And I thought you were dead, Cas,” Dean said, his lips barely moving. Eileen watched Dean reach out to take Cas’s hand and hold it gently between his own, his thumb caressing the angel's hand, perhaps unconsciously. Eileen darted a look at Sam and he shook his head, putting a finger over his mouth. She looked back at Sam’s brother and the angel.

“I _was_ dead, Dean, but it’s okay now. I’m all right,” Cas turned his body towards Dean, making it harder for Eileen to follow along. “I told you Jack wasn’t evil. He did what he could. He returned everyone that Lucifer killed in the previous 24 hours. He didn’t have to do that. Isn’t that proof enough that we don’t have to worry about Jack?”

“But where’d he go?” Dean asked. “I didn’t even get a chance to thank him for bringing you back to me, Cas.”

“Remember how Kelly said he’d bring peace? Well, he will. It just won’t be here. That rift opened for a reason. That’s where Jack went. He’s going to stop the war there. And maybe he will bring Mary home to you when he’s done.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Dean snorted.  “We just don’t get that lucky.”

“It seems like things might finally be calming down. No Lucifer, no British dicks, we’re all of us alive and…” Eileen looked over at Sam shyly,  “And we finally have a chance to decompress, just...just to be with each other. I have to say, I’m looking forward to it.” She glanced away from Sam’s blushing face to look over at Dean and Cas a little slyly. “I’m sure the two of you are as well?”

“I...I...uh…” Dean cleared his throat with a cough and turned redder than Sam had. “I don’t know what you mean…”

Eileen smirked as she watched the angel tilt his head at Dean and quirk an eyebrow. Dean ducked his head and Castiel stood, reaching down to grab his hand and pull him up. He faced Eileen, “I think you’re right, Eileen. I’ll just take Dean out of your hair. We have a few things to discuss. He promised, and I need to make my own apologies--”

“Cas, no, you don’t need to--” Dean breathed. His lips barely moved and Eileen wasn't sure _Sam_ had even heard them, but she caught the edge of them, the guilt on Dean’s face. The two definitely needed that alone time. She nodded encouragement at Cas, as he gently steered a stunned looking Dean out of the room.

“They have a lot to talk about,” Sam said. She watched his chest heave slightly with a sigh before he continued. “Neither of them think they’re good enough for the other. It’s...you just met Cas, but believe me, it’s tough watching them all the time. There’s been so much pining, from both of them, and so much hurt. If you had seen Dean when we thought Cas was dead...you would have cried, Eileen, I swear it. I feel like they’re on the verge of being _something_ if they’d just give themselves the chance.” He shrugged, his frustration clear.

“And what about us?” Eileen asked. Sam’s head jerked back in surprise and his eyes widened.

“Uh…” he said. He looked like a...well, like a scared moose. She reached her hand out to touch his arm lightly, shifting closer.

“Sam, I like you, a lot. I came here because of you. I used your room because the scent of you comforted me, even as it made me miss you more. I wasn’t even prepared to try and process your death if that happened. Telling myself, no, I didn’t know for sure, just so I wouldn’t get upset that we...we never explored _us_. I know you’re interested too and we’re both grown adults. So why not?”

“God, Eileen, I--” for the second time in twelve hours, she witnessed Sam Winchester - mighty hunter - breaking down. His eyes moistened, threatening to spill and he cupped her face with a shaking hand before sliding it around to rest in her hair, pulling her against his chest. He tucked her face into his neck and buried his own into her long hair. He wasn’t shaking as much as he’d been last night, but his chest heaved and his fingers tightened against her, like he never wanted to let her go.

That was okay. Now that she had him here, in her arms, she could admit that she didn’t want to let him go either.

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, in the library, holding each other. The weight of Sam, the heat of him, was comforting, but eventually she pulled back and stood. In an echo of Cas’s movement, she reached down for Sam’s hands and pulled him out of his chair. With a smile, she gently pulled him back towards his room.

Passing Dean’s door, Sam's face had reddened and his step quickened so much that he was practically dragging her down the hall, only slowing down when they were much further along it. She quirked an eyebrow at him and he shook his head with a shudder. “Be thankful you can’t hear them. I uh, think they’ve worked things out, if what I heard was any indication.”

“I don’t think I’d mind,” she said with a small smile. “Everyone deserves a little happiness, Sam.”

“Maybe, but it’s my _brother,”_ Sam complained.

“Then come on, let’s take your mind off of them,” Eileen said with a smirk, resuming their walk to his room. Sam grew increasingly nervous as they reached the door. Stepping inside, she closed it firmly behind them, then locked it and turned to face him.

“Sam, what’s the matter?” Eileen asked with concern.

“I...I don’t know. I guess...I’m just afraid that I’ll screw this up, that...that we do this and then you’ll be gone. That we’ll never get a chance to be more. We’re hunters, Eileen...and I thought you were dead once already…” Sam stumbled through his explanation and Eileen’s heart broke for him.

She knew that there was more history behind those words than she was aware of. A history he avoided talking about. And, even without knowing that history, she knew he wasn’t wrong. As hunters, their lives were constantly in danger. Just this last week alone they’d nearly lost each other. Hunters don’t often get happy endings. Eileen knew few got out of the life and lived, had a family, grew old.

Very, very few.

“Sure, we might die tomorrow, but don’t we both deserve happiness today? I won’t live my life in fear. If you truly don’t want this, just tell me. Don’t push me away because things _might_ go wrong later.” Eileen spoke gently, her hands moving fluidly. When she stopped, she moved to touch his cheek, watching his eyes close at the touch, his throat swallow.

They held that moment, frozen, waiting, her heart thudding painfully against her chest.

 

Then his lips were on hers, his big, warm hands grabbing at her arms and pulling her close. He groaned, the vibration running pleasingly through her body and she melted into him with a happy gasp. Before she knew it, he’d laid her out on his bed, the covers still rumpled from earlier that morning. Her - his - shirt was rucked up, baring her breasts and his hands were skimming over her soft skin while his lips still moved against hers.

Warmth pooled between her legs and she arched up with a cry when his fingers reached her nipples, playing with the sensitive nubs. She started to move restlessly against him, her hands moving, reaching, trying to divest Sam of his own clothing. An action that was made more difficult when his lips started a blazing trail over her neck, down her collarbone, and joined his fingers on her breasts. He mouthed and sucked along the swell of them, then engulfed one nipple in his mouth.

The sensation of his tongue flicking had her whimpering. She bit at her lip in an effort to restrain the sounds, afraid she was too loud, but she quickly abandoned the attempt when his long, thick fingers dipped into the loose waistband of her borrowed boxers and expertly started pulling her apart with his fingers alone. Eileen clutched at Sam’s naked back, the only part of him she’d succeeded in disrobing, her eyes fluttering closed and panting. “Please, please, Sam…”

She felt his shaky breath against her chest, the warmth of it across her damp nipples and then he pulled away. Eileen opened her eyes with alarm, only to find Sam was shucking off the sweatpants he’d been wearing.

Sam hadn't been wearing _anything_ underneath that.

He knelt on the bed, his hands grasping the boxers she wore. He looked up at her, eyes questioning and she nodded. He pulled them down and tossed them on the floor without looking where they landed, his hands returning to slide up her calves, to her thighs as he bent down and slipped his tongue just inside her wet folds, tasting her. His moan vibrated against her and Eileen clutched his wonderfully long hair, encouraging him further.

With fingers and tongue employed, it wasn’t long before she was writhing under him and begging him for more, “Sam! Oh! Oh, Sam, please….!”

She was ready to burst before he finally pulled away, leaving her empty and cold. But then he was filling her, more fully than before, hot and hard and _ohhhhhh_ … Eileen wrapped her legs around Sam, reached up for his arms and yanked him down to capture his lips with hers.

His eyes rolled back into his head as he thrust inside her, with both his cock and his tongue, her hips rising to meet him, her fingers dancing down his spine until they reached his ass. Palming a cheek in each hand, she pulled Sam harder against her, setting the rhythm and pace harder and faster. His lips trailed away from hers, mouthing at her neck, gasping and groaning. Each sound rocketing through her body, ratcheting her desire higher and higher.

She rocked with him, his chest dragging over her sensitive nipples, his fingers reaching down between them, between her legs and he rubbed with every thrust, with every suck, his fingers moved and arching up in jerking motions, she came. Sam bit her neck lightly and continued pounding, looking down her body, watching himself disappear inside her, again and again.

A stroke, another, hot and hard into her wet heat, soft folds pulling him deeper, Sam came, his mouth opening in a cry she couldn't hear but she could _feel_ right down to her toes. He spilled inside her and she had a brief moment of ‘oops’ before she decided that just this moment, she couldn’t much care. They had this moment, this fragile piece of time, to navigate.

Breathing hard, Sam pulled out, slowly, then fell to the bed next to her, pulling her into his arms and clutching at her as tightly as he had before. She hummed contentedly, rubbing herself on his soft cock, slipping a thigh between his legs, just trying to get as close as she could.

There were long moments where neither said anything, or even tried to say anything. Neither wanted to break their closeness to make it easier to talk. But eventually, they had to. Trying to stay connected as much as possible, Eileen leaned back enough to watch Sam’s lips.

“Sam…” she said softly, barely expelling any breath to the word. It was a wonder that he heard her, she was a terrible judge of the strength of a sound, his eyes cracking open to stare at her in worry and wonder. Eileen’s hand rubbed gently at his cheek, over his temple and back again. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I want us...to try. I want us to be _more._ I know we could be. We’re both of us strong hunters...we would only be stronger together. Please, say you’re on board with this?’

“Oh god, Eileen, as much as I want to say we shouldn’t, I’m too weak to say no,” Sam said slowly. “I couldn’t deny you this, not when I need you so much...when I think...I might have fallen in love with you.”

“It’s not a weakness, Sam,” she assured him.

His short, barking laugh startled her when it rocked her against his chest. “Yeah, right. Tell me that again the next time Cas dies and Dean goes off the deep end. Or the other way around.”

“We’re not talking about Dean and Castiel, Sam. We’re talking about us. About Sam and Eileen. About our future,” she said.

“Hunters don’t have a future,” he scoffed, but there was a light in his eyes that showed he didn’t really believe that, not completely.

“Sam, that’s more your brother talking, not you. What do _you_ want?” she flicked her eyes up to his and back to his mouth, determined not to miss anything. He took a long, deep breath and nodded.

“Okay, you’re right,” Sam sighed. “It’s just been, this whole week has been really hard on us. We’d thought we lost _everybody_ . _Again._ And I’m just…not sure I can go through that without it breaking me.” Sam’s grip on her tightened, holding her even closer than she’d thought possible, while her neck was still craned back to see his lips.

“I’ll be here for you, Sam. I promise,” she said.

“You can’t make that promise, not with the lives we live,” Sam protested, but he was wavering. He really wanted this, wanted _them_ , she could see it. It was the deepest desire of his heart, to be normal, to have a family. The same things she’d wanted all of her _own_ life. She could understand that.

“We don’t have to be hunters anymore,” Eileen pointed out. “It was always my plan to stop after I found the banshee, I just never got around to it.”

“Give up hunting? But we do so much good - “ Sam started. Eileen placed a finger of his lips and he stopped.

“Sshh...you don’t have to, not completely. Neither of us do. This place? This bunker? It’s a treasure trove. Not only that...it's a hub. Or it was once, from what you told me. It could be again. And who would run it?” Eileen gazed up at him adoringly, knowingly, arching her eyebrow at the question. Sam blinked, understanding dawning.

“God, me and Dean could...you and Cas too...we could bring in others we trusted to teach, learn. We could turn the bunker into what it was meant to be - a savior against the things that threaten mankind, and not that perversion that the British had going. Eileen, you’re a genius!”

Sam's voice was excited, of course, and Eileen laughed in amusement, in triumph. She had him thinking, finally, past the shock and fear he’d absorbed over the last week.

“I know,” she said simply.

He relaxed against her then, completely and fully, his eyes locked onto hers, filled with love and hope. Her heart filled so that it was her turn to duck her head against him, bury her face in _Sam_ as tears pricked her eyes.

For the first time ever, she had family.

She had a home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and please also give your love to the artist! :D totally deserves it.
> 
> Also - there is an alternative banner that she made art for that doesn't fit into the story anywhere (was needed for promo uses but we already have a title banner) but it's awesome and totally has to be shared:
> 
> Don't forget you can follow me on tumblr too!  
> [Pherryt](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pherryt)


End file.
